


When Water and Fire Meet

by CGStrider



Category: Avatar (2009), Avatar (TV), Avatar - Fandom, Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: Complete AU, F/M, Steampunk
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-02-01
Updated: 2016-09-09
Packaged: 2018-03-10 00:56:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,723
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3270770
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CGStrider/pseuds/CGStrider
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This is the year everything changes. Ozai's reign of terror is at an end. The world will be rebuilt and Iroh will rule. Rebel faction leader Katara is at the forefront of the reconstruction efforts, but at the king's behest, she is not alone. </p>
<p>Zutara steampunk au.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1, in which Katara meets a sheltered prince, incapacitates a spoiled princess, and dethrones a monarchy.

**Author's Note:**

> Hella au - like damn this is an au  
> Katara is about 19, which makes Zuko around 21.

Steam hissed through the mask strapped over Katara's face. Her voice ground through the vents on either side of the long leather beak protruding from her nose and mouth. "On my word, boys!  Be ready for my command!"  
The men to either side of her grinned behind leering leather masks. They perched silently on the edge of the roof, each of them a horrific, hunched gargoyle, wings outstretched, each tip of every feather bristling with malicious energy.  
The moon did not stand watch that night as Katara breathed a thick, blinding fog around the manor. The wind did not stir to dispel it, Nor did rain fall from the heavy clouds shielding Katara and her boys from the revealing moonlight. It was going precisely according to their plans. 

Within the manor, only one inhabitant stirred. Yet again he rolled over, for what seemed to him to be the hundredth time. Every time he dozed, he would be woken by the nightmare of huge, stone grey birds swooping and circling and diving all around him, raking at his ivory skin with their enormous talons. He rolled onto his back and heaved a sigh. Opening his eyes, he lifted his hand. A small honey gold wisp of flame danced at his fingertip.  
The flame had always been his shameful embarassment. The fire benders in his family had flames of deepest ruby red and brilliant blue sapphire. That small flame had earned him enough cruel nicknames and enough awful beatings to force him into hiding. It had earned him his scar. Why wear a mask in public to hide it when his face was already a hideous mask?  
He rolled over again, burying his face in his pillow. Sighing and closing his eyes, he prepared again to slip into another nightmare. 

Katara whispered to the man to her left. "Ready Sokka?"  
The man's grin broadened. "Ready as I ever will be, sister," He whispered through the snout of his mask.  
Katara straightened and stretched, the twenty-odd men around her following suite. She flipped a switch strapped to her neck and her wings folded, their well-oiled hinges making no sound as they collapsed into a space no bigger than a backpack. Katara closed her eyes and reached out with her mind, seeking water. To her surprise, she found a lake at the manor's rear. Katara bared her teeth in a savage grin.  
Today, she would get retribution for her family and friends. Today, they would kill the king. The realm would be born anew under Iroh's rule.  
She began the first in a sequence of movements she taught herself. The water from the lake rose and trickled into the house in a steady stream. Small, precise hand movements sent it up the stairs and into the king's room. Katara filled every available space with ice: no cologne bottle, hat, or cupboard was spared. She finished the movement with a sigh.  
"Its ready. Go, boys!" She called, swinging over the edge of the roof and feet first through a window on the top floor. The shattering of glass was the first sound of the beginning of a new rule. 

Katara ran silently down the hall, her padded feet making no sound on the lush carpet. Tapestries of the royal family lined the halls, grimacing down at her. They all looked stiff and uncomfortable. Katara would have stopped to laugh, had her mission not been so vitally important to the nation. Katara thanked her lucky stars for the snitch the rebel faction had placed in the manor who provided her with a map. For hours she had pored over it, memorizing every detail of the mansion. 

She darted down a narrow hall, her boys following closely. At the end of the red-carpeted corridor lay a gilded oak door with two fire benders in Imperial scarlet denying her access. Two of her boys, with respectful nods to Katara, ran ahead of her to distract and dispatch both of the king's guards, leaving Katara alone to carry out the final act.  
She burst through the door, already heaving the water she'd stored into thick whips that she wrapped around the sleeping king. He struggled and yelled, but to no avail. The faction of her boys who weren't with her - numbering nearly 18 - roamed the manor and dispatched any other guards and subdued the rest of the royal family. Katara looked into the flat, cold amber eyes of the king and began to laugh from the depths of her grief and pain. The faces of her parents burned raw in her mind's eye,  fueling her manic laughter. She drew a knife from the sheath strapped around her middle and advanced on the immobile king, the water wrapped around him freezing to his clothes and skin. Already the ice began to melt, leaving angry red welts.  
Her mind was trapped in a loop of memory as she advanced on the king, blade drawn, laughter forcing its way out from between teeth clenched in a primal snarl, watching Ozai kill her parents.  
Over and over again he smiled.  
Over and over and over again, Ozai raised his hands and incinerated her parents.  
Their screams drowned out any thought she might have had, echoing into a deafening roar in her mind. It took her several seconds to realize the roar was her own.  
She hurtled through midair, knife raised, and plunged it into the side of the king's neck. She wrenched the knife across his throat. Blood poured down his chest and splashed on her jacket sleeves. The king's wide, terrified eyes met hers for the brief few seconds his life existed. In that flash of time, Katara saw a life of fighting; for survival, for food...  
The only battle Ozai lost was the one for love. In that one small moment in time, Katara saw the sorrow and hardship that had made Ozai into the ruthless ruler she knew.  
With the sickening realization of Ozai's utter humanity, her mind came back to her.  
"What have I done... Oh god what have I done? " Katara whispered.  
Her resolve was gone.  Her righteous fury evaporated. Without those to support her, Katara fell to her knees in front of the king. Katara fell to her knees in front of Ozai, the man whose cruelty had robbed her and her brother of their family.  
Ozai, the man whose cruelty was not his own.  
Ozai, the man who had the cruelty of the world channeled through him.  
In death, the face of the king was sirene and peaceful, devoid of the scowl Katara and her gang were used to seeing printed on campaign posters and stamped into currency. She threw her jacket as far as she could from herself. She didn't know how long she sat before her brother entered the room.  
"Katara. The royal family is secure and Iroh has begin to spread the word of the king's death." Katara did not respond.  
"Katara," He said again. Sokka softly touched his sister's shoulder. Katara leapt to the side, the touch having jolted her out of her thoughts. Sokka grinned behind his fanged snout.  
"We have the royal family secured, Katara. We did it!"  
Katara lifted her beak, glad of its cover. Tears ran down both of her cheeks.  
"We can start the reconstruction of the country now, Sokka. Mom and dad are avenged..." She stood, swaying, before losing her balance and toppling forward. Sokka deftly caught her and pulled her into a hug.  
"It's alright, Katara. Let it out. The king is dead and me and the boys are here." Sokka rubbed her back, unsure of what else to do while his sister shook in his arms.  
"I k-killed him..."  
"Yes you did. You took out the root of the corruption and evil in the land. You saved our country."  
"No, Sokka. I killed a man." Katara pulled back. "I killed /a man./ We thought he was a heartless beast that only wanted to see us suffer, but he was just a man who had all the misfortune of the world heaped on his shoulders. He was just a man!" Sokka was speechless. Katara pulled her shoulders back and straightened, brushing her brother's arms off her shoulders. She took a deep, shuddering breath. "Never again." She removed her mask and wiped the tears from her cheeks. "Where is his family?"  
Sokka nodded wordlessly out the door and left, Katara in tow. As they walked down the hallway, Katara strapped her mask back to her face, taking comfort in the familiar leather and buckles that responded smoothly to her touch. Sokka led her silently on, finally coming to a stop on front of two plain red wood doors.  
"Where is this?" Katara's voice was barely a whisper.  
"We're keeping Zuko and Azula here."  
"Why am I here?"  
"We need you to speak to them. We need their support. If Iroh could  be here now, he would."  
Katara let out a small whimper. "What should I say? Oh Sokka, what will I say?"  
"Just tell them their father is dead and Iroh rules now."  
Weak with guilt, Katara went to the door to her right and knocked. No voice answered her from the inside. She cautiously opened it. Inside she found, to her surprise, that there were no royal children to be found.  
"I thought you said this is where you were holding them."  
Sokka frowned. "Maybe they're both in the other room." Sokka pulled open the other crimson door and ducked as a blue ball of fire flew out, narrowly missing his face. Katara flew past him, brushing the door open and revealing Zuko and Azula locked in combat.  
"I will be king!" Azula screeched at Zuko, lobbing blue fire at him relentlessly. Zuko was doing his best to defend, but Katara could see he was beginning to tire. He barely ducked a blow, or took a ball of fire to an upflung arm instead of dodging. Neither of them seemed to notice Katara and her brother enter the room.  
Zuko, at this point, couldn't afford the energy to pay attention to anything other than Azula's nonstop barrage. A fireball to his middle had taken a lot out of him.

Ten minutes prior to then, Azula strolled into his room. Zuko was asleep - just as she'd hoped. She leapt into the air and landed a spectacular fireball directly into Zuko's middle. He woke, gasping for breath, and rolled effortfully out of bed. He assumed a defensive fighting stance across its width from Azula.  
"Zuzu, brother, disgrace to this family, let's play like we used to. You've become so withdrawn that I've missed spending time with you." Both of her hands erupted in flame. Zuko struggled to keep calm, memories of his past resurfacing.  
Azula tying him down and trying to force fire down his throat. Azula throwing him into the turtle duck pond, knowing full well Zuko couldn't swim. Azula locking him out of his home and throwing fire at him while he cried and hit the door, begging her to stop.  
Jerked out of his memory, Zuko was knocked backwards by a ferocious swing. He hit the cabinet behind him, falling to the polished black marble floor. He tried to bend, but the movements would not come to his frantic mind. Zuko leapt to his feet and defended as best he could.

Ten minutes later, Azula was still at it and Zuko could no longer hold his own. His arm was scorched and blistered from protecting his face. The two masked siblings stood in shock as Azula hurled fire at her brother, the princess's body twisting and lunging effortlessly in sharp contrast to her sibling's labored breathing and strenuous, shaking movements. Zuko's strangled grunt of pain jerked Katara out of her stupor. She searched for water anywhere near them. The nearest was... A bathroom across the hall.  
Bingo.  
Pipes screeched and groaned, swelling and bending as Katara spread her legs and raised her arms into a bending stance. She heaved at the water, straining, pitting her strength against the integrity of the metal. Finally, a pipe broke and the incredible pressure was released. A tide of water rushed across the hall and into a whirling sphere around the princess. Zuko stumbled back as fast as he could, flattening himself against the wall. The sphere shrank as Katara's moving hands directed. Azula flung ball after ball of fire at it, but any steam she created was immediately absorbed again. She breathed heavily, the oxygen inside the sphere swiftly disappearing. She crumpled, her breaths becoming faster. Unbeknownst to Katara, Azula lost consciousness. It was Sokka who stopped her from causing further harm. He placed his hand on her shoulder.  
"Katara. Let her go."  
Katara's arms fell to her sides. "I'm sorry,"  she said quietly. She raised her head, the red glass through which she saw the world from behind her mask flashing. She turned her beak towards the prince, stepping slowly in his direction. Zuko's body tensed, readying himself for another attack. "I won't hurt you, Fire Prince."  
Zuko scoffed. "After seeing what you did to my sister, I'm not going to trust anything... you..." His already pale face turned ashen grey and he collapsed, overcome with pain and fatigue. Katara rushed to his side, examining his body. Guilt and fear whirled in cold flashes through her as she flung her mask to the floor. Rolling up her sleeves, she pulled water into a glove over her slender hands and placed them on Zuko's heaving chest. Taking a deep breath, she closed her eyes and delved into his body.  
She felt incredible pain in his midsection and, focusing her concentration there, she absent-mindedly admired the strength of will it would have taken to keep him upright. She carefully knitted muscle fibers back together, beginning to hum. As she painstakingly repaired the damaged tissue, she started to sing. Sokka joined her from his position on the floor a few feet away. 

"Hold you still, little one.  
Always I am here;  
Safe you are, little one.  
Fear you not this day." 

She moved to Zuko's blistered arm and began the verse again, the words slurring back into a solemn hum. Zuko began to regain his color and cracked his rich gold eyes open, watching Katara at work. Her voice was beautiful and soothing, its sweet softness perfectly in line with the cool of his arm.  
His arm - he wrenched it out of her grip and leapt to his feet. What the hell was he thinking? This strange woman - this strange /girl/ - the girl wore men's trousers and a fitted vest - why was she wearing men's clothes? - her chocolate brown hair falling in a long, thick plait over her shoulder. Where was Azula? Zuko swayed under the barrage of questions but jerked back when the girl reached to steady him.  
"Who are you?" Zuko launched questions at her. "Why are you here? What have you done to me?"  
The girl's crystal blue eyes raised to meet his and he stopped short when he saw the sorrow etched into the set of her lips and in the way her graceful brows knit together.  
"Your father is dead," she said, her voice sounding dead, lacking any emotion. "I killed him."  
Zuko raised his eyebrows. "Is that so?"  
Katara slipped her mask on, resuming the countenance of the leader of the rebel faction.  
Her voice shifted from feminine and melodic to the neutral gravel of the filtered mask. "Iroh rules now. Ozai's reign of terror is gone."  
Zuko's body tensed as he recognized the vicious curve of the beak. He'd seen it in wanted posters all over the city. "Truly?"  
"Indeed." Katara stood, holding her dripping wet hands out, palm up, in a gesture of peace. "I don't want to hurt you, Zuko. Enough blood has been shed today."  
Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Azula's still form crumpled in an undignified heap. "What did you do to Azula?"  
"She is only unconscious. She will recover. Please let me finish healing your arm."  
"Don't touch me!" Zuko backed away from the animalistic visage.  
Katara refused to remove the mask. To do so would be to show him her tears. "Zuko. Please listen to reason. I'm not your enemy. I was your father's."  
"How do you know my name?" Zuko's voice was bordering on hysterics. His sister attacked him, this girl knocked her out, his father was dead, Iroh was on the throne, and the leader of the rebels was trying to heal him. It was more than he could handle. "Why are you here?"  
Katara sighed quietly and let her hands fall to her sides. "I came only to inform you of the events' passing." Katara left, motioning to Sokka to take Azula with them. Before she passed Zuko's singed door, his words stopped her in her tracks.  
"This is all a prank, isn't it? My father sent you. He thought I needed another lesson in humility, didn't he?" He was being childish and he knew it, somewhere under the pain and fear. "You didn't do anything to him. Your mission was to scare me and you and my father were both in on it. Besides, there's no way you could have killed him. He's the fire lord."  
Next thing he knew, he was slammed against the wall and Katara's arm was poised to strike, a blade of ice sheathing her hand. "Do not mock me."  
The red glass panes flashed as she withdrew her beak from inches away from Zuko's face. He slid to the floor, trying to hide the tremors that shook his body. Katara left the room with no further resistance from Zuko.


	2. Chapter 2, in which Katara stays strong, learns some things she'd rather not, and meets an old friend.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ouch.

“Ozai is dead,” said Katara, her voice betraying none of the swirling emotion that threatened to overwhelm her. She spoke with the authority befitting a woman of her political status. She was the strength of the rebellion, and to break down in tears in front of her loyal officers and the new ruler of the fire nation would be to show unpardonable weakness.  


Iroh sighed, the wrinkles in his lined face seeming to grow deeper. “I see,” he said simply. “I shall begin the arrangements for his body.” His usual smile was gone, replaced by regret. “It is sad that my brother had to leave us as he did.”

“Indeed,” stated Katara. Though her hands were clean, she could still feel Ozai’s blood covering them and dripping down her arms. Shuddering, Katara changed the subject. _You’re a monster_ , she said, in the privacy of her own mind. _You murdered a helpless man and watched as his blood ran down your blade. You are evil._ “You are the ruler now, Lord Iroh,” she said aloud. “What will your first action be?”

“We must send word to all the kingdoms that the fire lord has fallen,” said Iroh immediately. “Then we must begin reconstruction efforts. We cannot let these people live as they have been under my brother.” Evidently, he had already put thought into his answer.

Katara nodded her agreement. “You are wise to prioritize repairs, I believe. I will lead the effort should you wish it.”

Iroh seemed to savor her suggestion before coming to a decision. “Yes Katara, it would be good to have the face of the people begin to fix what has been wronged.”

Katara gave a bow, feeling the weight of the responsibility she had volunteered for. “I will not fail you, my lord.”

“Please, Katara, there is no need for such formality. Iroh will suit me fine, and this bowing business just will not do.” Some of the informality with which he had spoken to her before that night returned to his speech.

“Yes, Iroh.” Katara spoke robotically. “I will leave tonight to begin.”

Iroh’s brow knitted in concern. “You must sleep, Katara. You saved the nation today.”

“With all due respect, my liege, I killed a man today. I will tend to the people tonight.”

“Katara -”

“Good night, Iroh.”

 

Katara walked from the room with her head held high, pulling the protective mask back over her face as soon as she was out of Iroh’s study. She took solace in its cover, knowing it hid her tears. It was the face of the rebel leader: a strong, fearless waterbender who would die for any of the citizens she protected. The rebel leader would know what to do. That figure wouldn’t cry like a child after killing the man who had kept them in subjugation and fear for so long, she would rejoice at the death of her enemy and lead her people to peace. Katara found that her feet had taken her back to the roof of the manor while she had been absorbed in her thoughts. She sighed quietly and turned to reenter the building when a glimmer in the lingering fog caught her eye. 

Her entire body tensed. She knew that movement. A long metal tail waved above the low white shroud like a flag. Without another thought, Katara released her wings and leapt from the roof. She heard the subtle clicking that the contraption made before she saw its wearer. She landed with the faintest of crunches on the lawn, taking the interloper by surprise. He grunted as he leapt backwards, but the metal tail harnessed to his body caught his weight and sent him into an elegant flip to land on his feet facing her. He wore no mask: instead, grey-brown eyes glared through her from below unkempt brown hair. A flash of blue was all Katara needed to confirm her fears as the boy tossed his hair away from his eyes.

“Get out of my way, waterbender.” The voice sent chills through Katara. It was familiar, yet cold and distant enough to seem entirely different from the warm, laughing voice in her memories.

“I will not let you kill them,” hissed Katara, moving into a defensive crouch. “Enough blood has been spilled this day.”

“ _Get out of my way_ ,” repeated the interloper, a growl seeping into his voice. “I will not ask you again, Katara. **Move.** ”

“You will not kill the children,” said Katara forcefully. “Ozai was your enemy, not Zuko or Azula.”

“They are Imperialist scum, same as the filth that raised them. They must die for our world to be at peace.” The boy drew a short length of wood from a sheath on his hip. “Should you stand in my way - in the way of peace - I will not hesitate to kill you.”

The boy in her memories looked at her happily, a doofy grin covering his face and an equally doofy pet perched on his shoulder. This boy seemed feral in comparison, his teeth bared in a snarl and long hair covering his forehead. “I do not want to fight, my friend. Peace has already been brought to the land.”

“Peace will not be had while a firebender remains in power,” spat the boy before launching himself at her. She dodged a swing of the crude weapon. “As long as Ozai and his offspring live, peace won’t come to the world.”

“Peace has come. Iroh is wise, he will be a good leader.” Katara dodged another swing from the weapon and she suddenly recognized it. It had been longer - much longer - when she had known it, but she recognized the joint and the splinters that jutted from it like thorns. The red fabric was gone, but the bones of the glider remained. She let out a gasp. “The glider…”

“Broken, like everything else around me.” The boy took another swipe at her. “Like the temples, like my Momo, like Gyatso and my Appa, everything will die eventually. Or did you forget -- my people are dead too.”

“I could not forget, my friend.” Katara remembered how small he looked as he sank to his knees in front of the bodies of the other monks. She remembered the ascent into the Avatar state and she remembered how his power had ravaged the temple around him. She also remembered his back as he ran from her and Sokka afterwards, saying he was too dangerous and he didn’t want to hurt them. He had leapt into the air on his glider and never returned. “Aang… What happened to you?”

Aang nearly snarled. “Life happened, Katara. While you were playing save-the-world with Sokka and your merry gang, I fought for my life and the life of my friends. I was attacked by Ozai’s special forces. The Avatar spirit is gone, Katara.”

Katara was taken aback. “Gone? How… Aang, I’m so sorry.”

“Save it, waterbender.” His words bit into Katara. “Sympathy won’t bring Momo back. It won’t bring Appa or Gyatso back.” He laughed bitterly. “I should be dead right now. That’s how it works, isn’t it? If I die when I’m in the Avatar state, then the spirit dies with me, right? I’m not dead and the spirit is gone, Katara. I can’t even airbend any more. I have no purpose but to destroy the one that took everything from me. Then I can finally die too.”

“Aang,” Katara whispered. “This isn’t how it should be.”

“This is how it is,” barked Aang. “I’m a living joke. Now _MOVE_.” Aang lunged forward again, only to be stopped by an embrace. He froze as the familiarity of the gesture washed over him and he had to choke back a sob at the tenderness of the gesture. However, as soon as the feeling was there, it was gone again.

“I know I can’t make up for anything that happened to you, but you still have friends here. You still have Sokka and I.” Katara hugged him like she used to when he woke up from a nightmare. His shoulders were broader now, his voice deeper and more ragged, and she could feel the bones in his ribcage as she pressed him close.

“Thank you, Katara,” said Aang, slowly moving for a concealed weapon within his loose tunic. With a lightning swift motion, Aang drew the dagger and plunged it into Katara’s side. Katara only grunted. “But your sentiment is unnecessary.”

“Aang,” gasped Katara, struggling for air as she released him. “Ozai… is dead.”

“What?” Aang stood stock still in disbelief as his old friend dropped heavily onto a knee in front of him. “Ozai… How?”

“I killed him,” Katara grunted, pulling herself to her feet almost by willpower alone.

Aang’s eyes narrowed as he faced the long beak and red glass eyes. “You can’t have killed him. You’re not powerful enough.”

“Ozai is dead,” said Katara, forcing strength into her voice. “He is dead… and Iroh will rule. You don’t have to live like this any more. Help with… repair efforts.” 

Katara gasped for air and her legs wobbled unsteadily. Already blackness was creeping in around the edges of her vision and she could feel her side wet with her own blood. With a cry, she pulled the blade out of her side and dropped it.

“Katara, I can’t. This is who I am now. I’m not the same naive boy you met who was full of hope and curiosity. I will kill Zuko and Azula and then I will kill Iroh, with you out of the way.”

“Aang, please…” Katara’s voice was little more than a pained whimper. “Ozai… He’s dead… You don’t… have to kill.”

Aang crouched, following Katara’s progress as she fell to one knee, then fell to the ground. He cocked his head at her, his tail twitching behind him. “I’ll send your parents a message with the firebenders when they die. I’ll tell them how brave you were and how you’ll probably be joining them shortly.”

Summoning the last of her fading strength, Katara pulled the water in the fog to her hands. She placed them both on Aang’s leg as he moved past her and sent a surge of her energy through the glowing sheaths of water and into the boy. She felt his emptiness in the last moments of her consciousness and filled it with all the grief she had felt in their years of being apart; with her sadness at the loss of their companions; and with the love and friendship she had felt for him. Then, the world went black.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please review, I thrive on constructive criticism! I'm sorry for how long this took to update, I'll try to update a bunch of my fanfics soon.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! Please review - I thrive on constructive criticism


End file.
